Friends in Spiderwebs
by theOldVenus
Summary: Children, Diana knew, were to be unconditionally loved and fiercely protected. And Peter was certainly a child in her eyes. A story in which Diana Prince and Peter Parker bond.


The meeting hadn't gone well. At least, that was what Peter Parker could only surmise when he heard Mr. Stark's tires squeal and saw the gleaming car vanish down the street. He hadn't been able to get a word from Tony as the man stormed out of the building – and it was a building that contained one of his offices. There were very few people who could make Tony Stark so disgruntled in one afternoon. But then, he seemed to have less and less patience for people in general as he got older.

Peter grinned at the idea, wondering if he should tell his theory about getting older and more annoyed to Mr. Stark. He didn't see it being very well-received and so he kept it to himself – he didn't even pull out his phone while he thought about it. He was proud of himself for the amount of self-control he was exercising.

The woman who had asked to meet with Mr. Stark descended the front steps of the building just then. She was classically beautiful – Peter had only had one glimpse of her before as she rushed by him, chased by fast rain and closing window of time. The clouds had long disappeared and the sun was gracing the late afternoon at last with its warm yellow rays. Peter had been sitting outside for close to half an hour, unable to take the boredom of kicking around in an overly-air-conditioned lobby just because Mr. Stark told him to stay put.

He was a kid, sure. But Mr. Stark could be so unreasonable sometimes. And at least Peter would grow out of being a kid.

He was perched on the flat banister of one of the stone railings running up the short staircase. He wondered if she would notice. The sun managed to capture how glorious her thick dark hair was – cascading down past her shoulders, glossy and tousled with a wave in the middle from where it had been pulled up into a ponytail and then taken down with some exasperation. She seemed to like her hair free. She seemed to be the type of person who was, in general, not meant to be confined by hairbands or close-toed shoes or…clothes.

That was pervy, Peter thought too late. But he didn't mean it that way. She didn't look like the type of woman who was very comfortable in the outfit she was wearing – which was a high-necked black shirt and slim-fitted dark jeans. She wore mostly-flat black shoes with only enough of a heel to give her a lift. She looked like she could rip them open any moment and go running down the street in something far more glorious, and far less. Kind of like Peter did with his Spider-Man costume, except without the being semi-naked part.

She turned to face him, large eyes as dark as a thunderstorm studying him.

"You're Peter Parker?" she asked.

"Yeah! Well, maybe. Why do you want to know?" He leaned forward, hands resting on his knees.

"He said if I saw you, then I would know that I came out the correct way." She made a face and gestured towards the path that Tony Stark had spend down. "I do not like your man of iron friend. He is not very kind."

"He has his bad moments, but he can also be pretty cool. You just have to let him warm up to you." Peter uncrossed his legs, letting them dangle over the side of the banister as he held out one hand to shake. "But yes, Peter. Something of a hero. Kind of a big deal. Did Mr. Stark mention that part too?"

She smiled, unable to keep her annoyance in face of his dorky grin. "Barely."

Peter deflated, gripping the banister and leaning back dramatically. He didn't think she would understand if he just let himself fall backwards into the freshly-trimmed bushes surrounding the tall building.

Stark would have let him fall. Stark might have even pushed him.

"Peter Parker – you're sure he didn't say anything? You know…" Peter narrowed his eyes, leaning closer so he could whisper, "Spider…?"

"Oh! Spider-Boy," she said with confidence. "He said something about you. He brushed it off a bit quickly."

Peter reached up and rubbed his face, grinding his fingers into the wet corners of his eyes. "Actually," he said, "it's Spider-Man…" his tone was slightly whiny, but somewhat charming in the fashion of boys his age.

"Ah," she replied, a bit flustered and concerned. It wasn't that she mind the correction, it was just that – well, society could not actually consider this child a man. Things were different here, she had been around long enough to know that. In Themyscira, Peter Parker would have absolutely been considered a child. But here, there was no Great War – it wasn't like the days when she had known Steve Trevor, and she had seen boys – the same age as Peter and practically children – in the trenches alongside the older fighters. The biggest war going on right now was the invisible one that Tony Stark and his friends seemed to be fighting, the one that most mortals were never going to see or know about. So with no Great War and no hair on his chin, why would someone go around calling themselves Spider-Man?

Still, what she said seemed to have upset him. She knew she should apologize. Thinking about Steve had distracted her for several minutes.

"I'm sorry," she said. "Spider-Man. I will remember."

"It isn't a big deal," he said, happy to have that cleared up. "But I do save people pretty often. You know, I do the hero thing a lot – I can stop a train with my bare hands – do you want to see?"

"No, no," she smiled again and shook her head. "I have to go. I have another appointment. But thank you, Peter Parker, for making me smile. I look forward to seeing you again."

"I hope to see you too," he said lightly. "And maybe next time Mr. Stark will let me into the room. If I promise not to talk or something."

"I will make sure that he does," she winked. "And my name is Diana. I don't think I mentioned that."

"Diana," he knew who she was. Wonder Woman – Mr. Stark had already talked about her on-and-off for about a week. Mostly mutterings about how he was not looking forward to having to meet with her because she 'wasn't going to get it' and she 'wasn't really needed anyway'. It seemed the meeting had gone about as well as the billionaire had anticipated, but that didn't stop Peter from basking in the fact that he was standing in the presence of such a powerful, literal goddess.

And she wanted him to call her Diana. That was like…her name. Peter felt his whole body tingle.

"I will see you soon, Peter Parker. Spider-Man." She nodded to him, pulling her dark blazer tighter around her shoulders as she turned to walk down the opposite side of the street. Peter craned his neck to watch her vanish, not turning away until she was completely out of sight.

* * *

"You have to let me show you this one," Peter said, picking up his backpack and turning it over to dump out the contents. They clattered onto the floor, thankfully carpeted, and he got down on his knees to sort through them. He knocked a battered notebook out of the way, along with an empty soda can, a half-eaten package of crackers, and an old mask prototype that he never got rid of.

Tony Stark was an hour late to his own meeting and counting. Peter and Diana had been alone for about forty-five minutes out of that hour because she had been late too.

"What is it?" She asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the contents of his backpack. It was so telling, the things that he carried with him. He was so eager and full of ideas. He was going to burst one day from all of the clever things he kept inside.

"It's a Spidey-Signal!" he grabbed it, still attached to the work-in-progress of a utility belt, and held it up for her inspection. "All right, it looks a little rough. But it's really cool because instead of flashing when someone needs me, or something like that, I flash it at other people – like, can you imagine – me slipping up on a bad-guy in an alley, and while he's running away just THIS appears on the wall in front of him? My giant glowing face? He'll shit himself and I will gloriously swoop in, hero saves the day."

"You talk a lot about being a hero," she said, smiling at him. "I think it is a great idea, how does it work?"

"It works just like this…" he hit the button on the side, but it didn't even flicker, much less light up. He frowned, furrowing his brow and smashing the button again, turning it around to face him. He could feel heat rising up to his cheeks, turning them an even brighter red than his suit. "I think it's just trying to make me look bad because you are sitting right there, but I promise you, this actually works…" he turned it around to shine it on the wall, hitting the bottom a few more times, jiggling it around. "I guess I have some tinkering left to do or maybe I knocked something out of place when it hit the floor…"

"What is that one?" Diana asked, picking up another gadget from the pile.

"Oh, that's one of my web-shooters…"

"It amazes me how you just create these things. In Themyscira…"

"In where?"

"My home. My mother told me there was once a god named Hephaestus. He was the son of Zeus and he crafted many great, terrifying weapons. He also created many beautiful gifts – I hope you always create more beautiful gifts than weapons, Peter Parker. I think you are very much like Hephaestus."

"I like creating things," Peter said a bit sheepishly. "Even weapons – I mean, I've never made something that's a real weapon, like a gun or anything. But I don't think making weapons would be so hard. I guess though Hephaestus would have made swords or something like that."

"I think you could make a sword," Diana said, "I think you could make a great sword to put all others to shame."

"Well," Peter grinned flashily, "I don't know about that."

"Stark creates weapons," Diana said, the corners of her beautifully shaped mouth dipping down with disapproval. "And he uses them in ways that I find to be arrogant and inhumane."

"He does, too, he struggles with that a lot." Peter said, cringing a little even as he said it. "I don't mean to make him sound like he's a bad guy. He's really great, actually, and he's done a lot for me. He can be a a little bit of a jerk sometimes, but that's the point, and I suppose it's a lot like – how a dad is supposed to be, you know? But he does have weapons and they are pretty badass. But he is one of the good guys, I mean – you ought to see the stuff some of the bad guys have. It makes us look like we're over here playing with Tinker Toys."

She didn't entirely understand what he meant, but she didn't like him talking in such a way. "You speak as though you have already seen many wars." She sounded a bit sad, as if she couldn't handle the thought of him marching across a battlefield. She had already seen young men go to war. She had seen young men die, good men who deserved very much to live, to have a family, to love…

Her chest tightened. But she wasn't about to let herself get wrapped up in a memory when she was trying to give this earnest young man all of her attention.

"I guess we're in a war right now," Peter said. "And if you think about it, when is this country not at war? Just because I'm not overseas doesn't mean I'm not fighting. And I believe in us, I believe in the good guys – I believe in everything that Mr. Stark says. He's a bit jaded, I think, he's lost some hope that things can ever be fixed. But he gets himself down and I want to try, really hard, to prove myself to him. I know I can be the hero that he sees, because he had to see something, right? Or he would never have taken me under his wing."

Diana nodded. "I remember," she said, "being young and eager to learn. I wanted to fight and learn how to defend myself. I was good at it, too, I was a fast learner – I made many improvements. But I never knew what it was truly like to fight. I never knew what it was like to see a war – I saw people that I loved drop into the sand around me. I saw my own aunt die, shot, protecting me. She choked on her own blood…" Diana closed her eyes. "It was so red. Her lungs were filling up with blood and she could barely speak. She tried to say something to me and I just couldn't…there was so much I wanted to say to her, too, before she left. But there wasn't enough time. And she died in my arms, and I had never…never seen my mother as bereaved as I saw her then."

Peter was quiet. He had no idea what to say. He just kept watching her with those big, young, round eyes. He looked so vulnerable to her – just another body she wished she could wrap herself around and protect. She wanted to shield him from the evils of the world. From all of the bullets she knew would be aimed at his brilliant head. She did not want to wake up one day to hear that his intelligent brain had been smeared all over a sidewalk. She did not know what Tony Stark had been thinking, dragging such a young kid into a war like this.

If this was anything like Diana had been hearing from the underground networks, if this was anything like the wars she had seen in the past – it would destroy a boy like Peter. Underneath the confident, boastful exterior there was a boy who very much lacked a lot of things – experience being the giant among them.

She did not want Peter to have any first-hand experience with killing. She wanted him to stay in his room, inventing brilliant little gadgets, being a child for as long as he could be. She was finally starting to understand why her mother was so reluctant to let her grow up. Why it had taken her so long to start the training.

Maybe this was what it felt like. When her mother had first discovered that she had been training so long and so hard behind her back for all of those years.

"I have been in big fights before," Peter said. "And I've handled a lot of smaller-time criminals since then. I'm not an idiot, you know? I get what I'm doing. You sound a lot like Mr. Stark when you talk like that – but I've got this superhero stuff in the bag, and I will prove that to both of you, if I have to."

Diana leaned over, resting a warm hand on top of his. "That isn't what I'm saying," she told him. "I'm saying that you don't need to prove anything. War does not make you a hero, or a warrior – it kills you, at worst. It wounds you at best. War leaves scars, sometimes they don't ever heal and sometimes they're not the kind other people can see. You are going to walk around the rest of your life with things that can't be forgotten or healed, and you will regret ever making the decisions that led you up to that point. Every day. Even if you know it could not have been avoided, and you also wouldn't go back for anything."

Peter pressed his lips together. He could see the tears gathering in her eyes, but she found them back. She kept so much inside – he wondered what sort of secrets she had that she would never be able to tell them? She had seen the horrors of war. People who had seen that kind of awful stuff always wore it on their face, or carried it in their eyes – she carried it in hers, but it was only visible right now. Often she carried herself aloof, enigmatic like a queen. But now she was opening up to him, and the decades-old pain that was still very raw for her was showing underneath her collected exterior.

Peter rested his hand on top of hers, warm and affectionate. "I'm not trying to upset you," he said. "I'm just not a kid, you don't have to treat me like one. I know what I'm getting into, okay? But these abilities I have…I can't just sit around and do nothing with them. I have to help make the world a better place or else, I guess I go crazy and become one of the bad guys. And I don't want to be one of the bad guys, I want to help people. The people who were born weak or unwilling to fight for themselves."

"You have a big heart," she said. "And you are very kind and obviously bright beyond your years. I wouldn't call you wise but…very intelligent. You remind me a good deal of myself at your age. I also wanted to fight for what was good."

"Don't you still want to do that?" he teased.

"Yes," she laughed. "I still want to fight for what is good, but I have myself sorted out a bit better."

"At least we have a physical bad guy to fight," Peter added. "Yours has always been a bit more ambiguous, from what Mr. Stark has said. And while I really admire your attempts to end all of war and evil, I just don't know if that can be done. And if you did end all war, then where would we fit? It's kind of messed up if you think about it but if the villains didn't exist, neither would the heroes. We would just be ordinary people, or maybe we wouldn't exist at all. Can you even imagine what that would be like?"

"Yes," Diana looked down at her hands, slipping one of them into the pocket of her long coat. "I can imagine what it would be like…"

She pulled out the old watch. It was Steve Trevor's watch – the one she carried around always. Her heart in her pocket.

"I knew someone like you, once," she said. "I thought I knew about love before I met him, but I was wrong. He taught me all about love, and he made me realize that there are things in this world worth fighting for. The reason why the bad guys, as you put it, will never win. And why we are needed. We don't fight because human lives are precious. We fight because the way they care so strongly for each other is." She looked up again. "He was a brave warrior. And a good man."

"…That's an old watch." Peter didn't know how to respond to the waves of such strong emotion, and he didn't want to make her think that he did not care. He reached out, and with some hesitation, she obligingly placed the watch in his hand. "It doesn't seem to work at all."

"It doesn't tick anymore," she said softly. "He said he used to let it tell him what to do. It doesn't dictate anyone's life anymore."

Before their conversation could continue, the door opened. Tony Stark walked in, slipping his sunglasses up into his salt-and-pepper hair while furrowing his brow at Peter.

Peter put his hands up, slipping the watch discreetly into his pocket. "Don't worry," he said. "I'm gone. I'm out of here, so fast. Spider-Man has left the building." He flashed the older man a grin. "But don't keep her out too late, yeah? Have her home by 8."

Tony rolled his eyes, unimpressed, while jerking his thumb over his shoulder in an indication that Peter should hit the road.

Peter shoved his gadgets back into his backpack and picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder. He smiled at Diana and slipped past Tony, picking up the pace once he got out into the hallway.

* * *

Diana returned late to her hotel room. The first thing she did was shed her long coat and throw it onto a metal peg by the door before slipping into a chair, sinking into the seat and letting out a long sigh. She pressed her fingertips against her head, grinding them into her temples and moaning. She had such a headache. It had been a long day. She had gone through far too many emotions and walked down one too many avenues of memory. She needed a good night's sleep. She didn't want to have to get up and face another day of Avengers talk, or end of the world talk. Tony was very good at talking around a point but never actually hitting the nail on the head. She still wasn't very sure about what they needed him for, but she had been asked to talk to him – and so she was going to continue to go to these meetings until the higher purpose chose to rear its ugly head.

She leaned forward, resting her elbows against the table. Her hand went out and hit something cold. She drew her hand back, looking down, and saw the watch. The watch she never let out of her sight – Steve Trevor's watch. She swallowed hard, fear gripping her throat for just a split second. She never let go of that watch for a moment. And it was here, now, but she hadn't taken it out of her coat when she got home. Which mean that it had been gone before, and she couldn't remember…

Oh. Parker. Spider-Boy who was actually Spider-Man. She had given him the watch, and he must have taken it with him by accident or on purpose. But now it was here. How did he know that she…?

There was a little folded white piece of paper resting underneath the watch. Diana picked the watch up and opened up the worn leather flap that covered its face. She couldn't believe her eyes at first, but the long and the short hand were both moving.

She grinned, cupping the watch in her hands and lifting it up closer to her face. She turned her head, pressing her ear against the cold glass…

It was ticking. She could actually hear it. She had not heard it do that in so long.

Tears sprang to her eyes again. The ones that she had been holding back all day started to roll, hot and fast, down her cheeks and drip off her chin. She hiccupped a little, pressing her nose to the back of the watch and inhaling deeply, smelling the leather. She would swear up and down that his scent still clung to it. That she could still smell his salty skin, the grease in his hair and the smoke that clung to his clothes…

She pressed her lips against the leather, gently, not wanting too much of her to rub off on it and erase what was left of him. She set the watch down, picking up the note and opening it up. Inside the handwriting was almost impossible to read – definitely male. Not much was written, but the note was short and to the point…

 _Diana,_

 _Sorry for taking this. It was kind of an accident. But I fixed it! It ticks now. You can let it tell you what to do again. Not that you have to take orders from a watch._

 _Hope it's okay,_  
 _-Your Friendly Neighborhood Spiderman_

 _P.S. Mr. Stark didn't tell me where you were staying but I found the information on his desk. Also, I came in through the window._ Trick _of the hero trade._

Diana laughed, despite the fact that tears would not stop streaming no matter how she tried to blink them back. She set the note down and picked up the watch again, pressing another light kiss to its glass.

Peter Parker was so earnest. And, quite honestly, he was everything a hero ought to try to be.

Steve Trevor would have approved – he would have liked Peter. Very much. They were even a little alike.

Maybe that was why she worried. Peter didn't remind her of herself, he reminded her of Steve…

She squeezed the watch a little tighter in her hands. Steve and Peter…one had a chance that the other never did. But they were both heroes to her. True heroes. Perhaps more so than she felt she would ever be.

* * *

"I understand now."

Peter nearly jumped out of skin. He spun on his heel but didn't break his stride, walking backwards as he faced Diana.

"Hey! You can't sneak up on people like that…"

"Can't sneak up on heroes?" She grinned. He narrowed his eyes. "Thank you," she said. "For the watch."

"Watch? What watch." He tried to be coy.

"The one you fixed for me,"

"A fixed old watch? Sounds superheroic. That's not something Peter Parker could do, that sounds like something Spider-Man would do."

"No, Peter. That's what I understand." She caught up with him, reaching out to take hold of his arm. She stopped him in his tracks. "You fixed it. You, not Spider-Man. But he is still a part of you – a very big part. And he can't be ignored. You were right, you know. When you were talking about heroes – we can't help who we are, and we are born into these roles. Sometimes we are born with abilities, sometimes we realize them or acquire them down the line…but there are always going to be bad guys. And if the bad guys exist, and we did not, then there would be only evil. And nothing good, no love." Her face softened with a smile. "And it isn't just the bad guys to be thwarted or the civilians to be saved. We heroes look out for each other too. The scars don't have to heal on their own. The wounds don't mend themselves. We keep each other standing tall, we kept each other going…you helped me, you know. And I didn't even know that I had crumpled that much. Things were just getting to me, I guess. But you're a real hero to me, Spider-Man."

Peter beamed at her, clutching his backpack strap. "I just wanted to do something nice for you," he said. "After all, I really like you. And you believe in me. You know that I can do this."

"And it will be an honor," she added, "to fight alongside you."

"Spider-Man and Wonder Woman? That's the dream team, right there."

"Of course," she squeezed his arm before pulling her hand away. "I have to go back, now, but I wanted to catch up with you first thing. So thank you, again, and I will be seeing you soon."

"I will see you soon. Don't let Mr. Stark run you too far into the ground. Like I said, he means well, he's not a bad guy – he just understands them so well that he starts to talk like them, sometimes."

"I will keep an open mind," she put her hands into her coat pockets. "I don't have to like someone to listen to them."

"I like lots of people and never listen to anyone," Peter said cheekily. "See you around."


End file.
